Title: AcquiescenceFandom: Tales of DestinyGenre: Drama/TragedyPairing(s): Implied Lion/StahnWritten on: February 12, 2009(Talk about a gem I never bothered sharing.)Warnings: Plenty of idiomatic wordplay; if you don't have a firm grasp on the English language... I suggest you stay away, *chuckles*

Summary: What goes on in the mind of a traitor? Does he feel remorse? Is he doing this of his own free will? Why does he cling onto pride?--No, he wants to let go: Of everything.

A/N: This can be read as a stand-alone story/one-shot, but I will be continuing it. Eventually. I re-read it and simply could not leave it as is.---irony n. A sort of humor, ridicule, or light sarcasm, which adopts a mode of speech the meaning of which is contrary to the literal sense of the words.

I stared out the window, and muttered to myself, "It won't be long now." Clouds were rolling in. At this rate, it would most likely rain by nightfall. I lowered my gaze, just as shadows were cast upon the ground beneath me and the wall behind me. The weather did a wonderful job of imitating my current mood. Splendid really. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought nature was mocking me. Then again, I wouldn't have been surprised.

Being branded a traitor, I had lost several privileges. For one thing, people would never look at me the same. Once a liar, always a liar; but I hadn't cried wolf - I was the wolf. And my so-called allies had been the scapegoats...

The look of shock in his eyes burned an image in my mind. I'd done a good job of fooling them, all of them, but what else did I expect? That had been the point - to trick everyone; I had become their acquaintance, their comrade, their friend.

"No, I don't regret anything." No, I wasn't their friend. I was his friend. Only his. And even then, the feeling wasn't mutual. While he insisted upon partaking in the activities of the common folk with one such as I, not once did I enjoy same thrill he seemed to experience. There would always be a big grin upon his face, befitting of a fool. I never mimicked his gestures, never dared to smile back.

He was the only one having fun, and the idiot held so much of it in his hands that he failed to notice any of it spilling out, constantly drenching me in the process. I drowned in his pleasantries, in his kindness and warmth. It set me ablaze, and it suffocated me as well, a tightness clawing at my chest.

How anyone could be so persistent, I did not know.

I would never show him the same kindness. Perhaps with my guard lowered and my pride in splinters, I would lower myself to such an act. But of course, it would take more than a bumbling fool and a ridiculous grin to tear down such walls. I fenced nothing in; I kept everything out. Stahn was an outsider.

"Chal, you probably know more about me than anyone else. Even my favorite past time. ...what? Didn't I tell you last-- Oh, right. I was speaking with him, wasn't I? Forgive me for not keeping you company." I had spoken to him, offered one last chance at a proper good-bye. It looked as if he'd been in a trance, begging me with his eyes for the nightmare to end. I almost gazed upon him with pity, for he would be in a deep slumber for a very long time, especially if things went according to plan. An eternal rest, fit for a man who loves sleep as much as he loves food - when had the idea begin to disgust me?

We bid our farewells, and as I turned to leave - never to be outshone, always the first to accomplish anything - he had more to be said: "Rutee looks just like you."

Those words must have meant something. I tried to figure out what. Had it finally occurred to him that my words had been truth? That I was the younger brother of Rutee Katrea, that Lion Magnus was not my name, that I planned on betraying him, that everything he knew before was a lie on my part? No, he still had a glimmer of hope in his eyes; it was like looking into heaven itself.

I pulled my gaze away and looked to the ground. I didn't belong there.

A man like me did not deserve salvation. Nor did I ask for it. I wasn't born to beg, and I wasn't made to grovel. My official duty was as a knight, but that didn't suit me either. What status I possessed was given to me, forced upon me, by the man who controls my fate. To him, I was just a tool, a pawn in his grand scheme of things. As obedient as a lowly mutt, I would be at his every beck and call.

But alone, in the privacy of my own mind, in the confines of my own heart - yes, I still have one of those - I denied vehemently that that man was my father, that he controlled me, that my sole purpose was to be his trump card. Impressive as that sounds, once the hand's played, the game's still over. My life was not something to be toyed with!

Evil sweet tooth. Such a sin. It was a symbol of what little childhood naivety remained. I should've known better, shouldn't have indulged, but the sweetness, artificial or not, was such a comfort in my bitter life. And that man knew it. Countless times he attempted to bribe me, but for him I would not be a mere insect; his words were sour like vinegar. And that is why it took a threat to leash me. Lowly mutt, tamed by punishment!

I wasn't human to begin with. I tossed aside what normal people did: I didn't make friends, I didn't play games, I didn't feel happiness, I would not cry when I felt sadness, I would not regret a death by my hands - I became a monster. With my new alias came new power, and my thoughts and ideals, never fully formed into good, true morals, were warped. I could do many a thing humans couldn't do without a grimace or the slightest bit of hesitation.

"I know what I'm doing, Chal. If it worries you so much, I'll sleep when the first candle wanes." The other night, I'd used enough to get through the night and into dawn. Suffice to say, my movements had become cumbersome, and my thoughts had been clouded with exhaustion. Still, I had not caught a wink; the only one being the one Stahn had given me after remarking the similarity between two siblings. That fool. It was the kind of wordless remark a young man might have given a girl he fancied.

However, I took it as a promise that he'd "rescue" me. I knew that was what he had meant. And I couldn't help but feel a bit hopeful. At the same time, I was distraught over my own thoughts. I didn't need him. I'd be fine on my own, just like always. Dependence was a folly. Humans were dependent; I wasn't one of them!

Unlike him, unlike he who was so sincere. When we walked side-by-side (and it wasn't by choice), one could see how different we were. Striking gold against midnight black, one man towering over the other, a perpetual scowl versus a welcoming smile - what is this nonsense of opposites attracting? At first I felt nothing but rage at being mistaken for that simpleton's friend. It became another consistency in my mundane world: kill, report to Hugo, kill, kill, "aren't you Stahn's friend?", kill.

And because it was something I continually encountered, I found myself striving to understand it. The more I pondered, the more distant I felt. It didn't take long for me to realize what was happening. Nature's law was impossible to defy. While opposites attracted, the reverse also stood. If I were to give in, if I were to return anything he did for me, it would push him away.

Don't walk towards the light, I told myself. He'll be the end of me, I feared. One day even Stahn will hate me, I understood that all too well.

Knowledge is power.Yet I had never felt weaker.

My eyes rested upon the spot he had once stood in, the elevator slowly vanishing. Would he look down and watch over me from up there? I didn't worry about that for too long. For once in my life, I wasn't scared; I was ready to die. That man couldn't reach me this time. His grip upon me did not extend that far. So then, what was my purpose? Helping Stahn and the others escape?

A bitter smile. "My only master is you, Lion." Chaltier's words comforted me. The end would justify the means.